To Build a Home
by QuinoaGoldstein
Summary: It's January 1927, and change is in the air once again as a magizoologist, an auror, a legilimens, a baker and an obscurial become a family.
1. Chapter 1

It's a chilly, snowy night when MACUSA have their New Year's celebration.

Porpentina Goldstein wouldn't have gone, but her sister Queenie insists getting their gladrags on and drinking copious amounts of gigglewater is exactly what they both need after… everything. So, for the sake of her sister, Tina begrudgingly puts on a sequinned dress, swapping comfort and practicality for the sake of looking a bit sparkly.

"C'mon, Teenie, we don't wanna be late!" Queenie exclaims, grabbing Tina's arm as they leave the apartment.

She can't help but feel like Queenie's pulling her out of the door, and not for the first time either; Tina's ideal Saturday night involves a good book, hot cocoa, and fuzzy woollen socks, but this is rarely allowed. Instead, she's got to be self conscious in sequins, massively underdressed for this cold weather.

The Woolworth building is only a short walk away, but Tina's shoes are killing her already. How, she wonders, does Queenie do this? And more to the point how does she do it and actually enjoy all of this nonsense?

Even when she's been surrounded by magic her whole life, it's strange to walk the streets three weeks after they were turned to wreck and ruin, and have them look as though nothing ever happened. Grimy, sparkling, magical and mechanical New York. Tina was born in this city, and while she hates the idea that she'll die here too, where else could she go? This is home.

The streets aren't the only ones in denial about the recent events. There's an unspoken rule in action to all those who were directly involved in what happened; they don't talk about it. Much like the contradiction of her love for this city, Tina can't decide whether this is a good thing or not. As much as she wants everything to go back to normal… it can't. She feels the weight of uncertainty for the Second Salem kids, she carries her sister's heartbreak that she tries to hide, and only ever lets out with tears when she thinks Tina's asleep. She holds a reputation that's suffering from whiplash; it went from Tina the auror to Tina the disgraced, and now Tina the hero in the span of a month. Isn't that enough to make anyone's head spin?

The function room is decorated festively and full of merry wizards and witches, all dressed to the nines and all keen to talk to the hero auror who helped capture Grindelwald. Yet Tina feels as awkward as she did at her school prom, dazed by the loud music, not keen on any of the pointless interaction; nonetheless, she grabs a glass from the fountain of gigglewater and permits Queenie to pull her around an endless cycle of 'Hey, have you met my sister Tina?' instead of sneaking off to hide behind one of the decadent golden curtains, though it's a tempting prospect.

And the cherry on top of this mess of a cake is when a familiar voice yells above the din of jazzy music playing; "Miss Goldstein and Miss Goldstein, there you are!" It's Abernathy, manager of the wand permit office, shoving his way through the crowds to meet them. Tina resists a grimace - she can't stand that little creep. "It's good to see ya both." Abernathy says with a curt nod. "Save the last dance for me, won'tcha Queenie?"

"Not if it was the last dance I'd ever have, honey," Queenie says so sweetly before flouncing away that it takes the short wizard a moment to realise he's been insulted. That's all Tina needs, to be stuck with Abernathy - so she stuffs a few appetizers into her little beaded bag and hot-tails it out of there.

As soon as she's out into the atrium, Tina sighs. The music has faded to a dull thumping tune, and it's a relief can finally be able to hear her own thoughts. She's below the Magical Exposure Threat Level, (which is back down to level 3 'moderate threat',), when another familiar voice calls down to her. "Leaving so soon, miss Goldstein?"

Tina jumps. For a moment, she thinks that enormous banner of President Piquery has just spoken to her; then she jumps again, realizing that below it is the actual President. She gulps, hoping the President didn't see her shove all those hors d'oeuvres into her purse.

"I'm uh, not really the partying type," Tina explains.

Madame Piquery smiles. "I understand. But we're very fortunate this new year to have reasons to celebrate."

"Yes, Madame President." Tina wonders if the silence that follows is uncomfortable for both of them, or just her. Probably just her. Nobody can feel awkward when they've got the confidence to wear such a stunning headdress, can they? But finally, the president speaks.

"While you're here, Tina, there was something I wanted to discuss with you, unless you're in a rush?"

"Not at all ma'am, I've got plenty of time." She hadn't been planning on leaving yet anyway; sisters don't let eachother walk home alone even if it is only round the corner.

"I wanted to know how you feel about mister Graves returning to the auror office."

"You're asking… my opinion?" The President of wizarding America wants her opinion? Times really are changing. "Isn't he still in the hospital?"

"He was discharged this morning." It's always hard to tell what Madame Piquery is thinking, but Tina's positive that's distaste in her tone. "Discharged to rest at home and re-adjust to his life, but if I know Percival he won't let anyone stop him coming back to work."

"It's always an honour to work with him." Tina's always seen her head auror as more than a boss, but a mentor too - which brings the question that keeps her up at night. How did she not notice, even after she was demoted? How did nobody notice? "It wouldn't be fair to treat him differently because of what that monster did."

"I'm glad you agree-" A shriek and a clattering cuts Madame Piquery off, before the door to the function room swings open and who should burst out - of course it's Queenie.

"Teenie, we gotta go!"

Tina looks around, for an escape or for someone else to deal with this, as Queenie runs up to her with a strange sort of hobble. The eldest Goldstein sighs. "Queenie, what did you do?"

"I hit Abernathy with my shoe." Queenie holds up a black high heel. That explains the strange running. "Happy New Year's, Madame President!" And with that, Queenie grabs Tina's arm and disapparates.


	2. Chapter 2

The bakery is everything Jacob could've hoped, and far more.

His first customer buys a challah loaf, and returns two days later saying it's the best bread she's ever eaten. She's one of his many regulars now. Then there's the businessmen who come in for a hurried croissant and coffee before work, and the kids who come by after school for pierniczki. The best part of the job is making each of their days a little brighter, seeing them all smile.

It's exactly as he planned, and business is booming. Yet something's missing. What exactly it is,, he doesn't know - it's like he's forgotten something important, and can't remember what. It's just out of reach, on the tip of his tongue… He speaks to hundreds of people a day and yet it's a solitary life, and maybe that's the trouble.

Whatever it is, that isn't the only mystery in Jacob Kowalski's life.

There's a woman who's been hanging around the bakery. He first saw her at the grand opening - she doesn't come into the store, instead watching from across the street - and when they meet eyes, though it's only for a second, Jacob feels like he knows her.

He sees her again a few days later. She gives him the most radiant smile, and then he blinks and she's gone.

She comes by now and then, but she's never bought so much as a cupcake or spoken to Jacob - her eyes linger over the shop, over him, yet as soon as he glances at her she's gone once more.

She's like a fleeting memory of a beautiful dream in peachy pink or emerald green, or perhaps a ghost. Or, perhaps she's the 'well-wisher' that left him a suitcase full of silver eggshells so that he could leave the canning factory for good and open up his bakery. (What the heck is an occamy anyway, he often wonders to himself.)

While Jacob loads trays of Pączkis and bagels into the oven, he wonders about the mystery woman, the mystery suitcase, the little wound on his neck and the man in the blue coat who dropped it off - him, he hasn't seen since. Something strange is going on around Jacob Kowalski, but whatever it is, it's great. He's always been a fan of adventures, and always hoped there's more to life than what meets the common eye.

It's a few weeks after the new year's begun, and Jacob thinks nothing special this grey, rainy evening as he closes up shop for the night. He's never been fussed about bad weather - not until lately. Jacob's always been the type to casually walk through a storm while others flee the rain. It's only lately this weather's made Jacob feel… uneasy. Like it's got bad connotations. But for the life of him, he can't think what.

Jacob shrugs the idea off. He's being stupid, there's no harm in a little rain - and G-d knows he's faced a helluva lot worse. So he takes a deep breath, and steps out from under the canopy outside his shop.

Walking down the quickly darkening New York streets, Jacob wonders what it is exactly that's making his skin crawl.

He loved the rain when he was a kid. He remembers roughhousing in the mud with his brother, in the back in Poznań when they had a yard. He remembers standing on the bow of a ship in the pouring rain, trying to catch a glimpse of the new world on the horizon until his Grandma tapped at the window, calling out to him " Jacob, moje dziecko! Będziesz przeziębić się, jeśli będziesz grał w deszczu!"

And he's so lost in his thoughts, he doesn't notice someone in his path until he's walked right into her. Until he's walked right into her . "Oh!" The strawberry-blonde woman exclaims. "Jacob!"

"I'm so sorry! Wasn't lookin' where I was goin', man I'm such a klutz." Jacob hardly hears himself, utterly starstruck.

"That's alright honey, I wasn't lookin' either," Her smile's just as radiant up close, and she holds out her umbrella. "Get under, honey, we can't have you catchin' a chill."

"Thanks very much, darl," And suddenly Jacob's walking along, sharing the umbrella of the most beautiful woman he's ever seen. Does love at first sight exist? He knows it does now. "Wait a moment, how'd you know my name?"

"Huh? Oh, I musta read it somewhere. You're the guy who runs the bakery, right?"

"I sure am," This makes enough sense to Jacob; there was a bit about the bakery in the newspapers a while back. "Y'oughtta come by some time, not to sound arrogant but I am a pretty good cook."

* * *

"Teenie, you're home early!" Queenie exclaims as she walks through the door, sensing her sister's presence before seeing or hearing her. (She's only getting dressed at this time? Mercy Lewis, what has that girl been up to all day?) Before Tina can form the words in her mind; ' I haven't been to work yet' , Queenie speaks. "Oh, I see - you're on night shift today? I did wonder why I didn't see you 'round."

She feels guilty lying to her sister, even little lies like that one. Of course Queenie knows tonight is the night shift, Tina's been thinking about the case she's been assigned for a week. Even actually talking about it now and then.

"Mhm, somehow they still trust me to uphold the law after you assaulted the wand permit manager." Tina says seriously, though not without the glint of a smile from her reflection as she brushes her hair in the bedroom mirror.

"I didn't hit him that hard." Queenie protests. She waves her wand and her rose-pink coat hangs itself up, her shoes settling themselves neatly by the door. So typical of Tina, always obeying the rules - but Queenie prefers her way, that cockalorum hasn't bothered either of them since she hit him with her shoe. "Even if I did, they ain't gonna blame you for that. The president thought it was funny!"

"She did not!" Tina exclaims, as though scandalised.

"Trust me honey, she did." Queenie says, dancing into the kitchenette and waving her wand to set the table. And who can blame her for being in such high spirits? Sure, their apartment is absurdly tiny, and Queenie wishes she had a proper kitchen, not to mention a garden. But it's home. Life is pretty swell!

"I can't stick around for dinner, Queenie, I'm sorry." Tina calls over to her.

"Get something healthy! I'll know if you get a hotdog."

Tina emerges from the bedroom at last to grab her shoes and tut at her younger sister. "What is your problem with hotdogs?"

"They ain't kosher-"

"You had a bacon sandwich for breakfast this morning-"

"-And they're made of the chopped off tails of real dogs! What would Mr Scamander say to that, huh?"

Tina goes red, and splutters. "I'm going to work. See ya for breakfast, Queens."

"Sure, but you're cookin' it!" She jokes; as if she'd ever trust Tina around a kitchen. Queenie's still laughing about Mr Scamander. It's her job to tease her sister about that, right? She took a real shine to Newt, even if she's yet to realise it. Yet.

Tina disapparates.

Queenie jumps to action immediately. Putting on the gramophone, twirling through the flat, waving her wand to have everything tidy itself up while she fixes her hair and makeup after the rain. Lamb chops put themselves into the oven, a knife cuts up vegetables as if guided by an invisible hand whilst Queenie deliberates the pros and cons of wearing the same dress she wore the night they met. And if she 'forgets' to tell Tina in the morning that Jacob came over for dinner… Well, that isn't really a lie, is it?

It's nearing 7pm, and Jacob's the punctual type. She pokes her head out of the window and there he is down below, holding a bouquet of pink roses. Queenie's heart could just dance at the very sight of him.

And if she 'forgets' to mention magic to Jacob, unless he brings it up first… That isn't a lie either, right?


	3. Chapter 3

"A toast," One of the aurors calls out to the rest of his department from where he's stood on a table. "To roundin' up the rest of those Swiss bastards!"

"A toast to them cursing Howard's zozzled ass more like!" Another auror shouts, to much laughter from her colleagues.

That's the conversation ensuing as Tina walks into the auror department, at precisely 6:59pm. She falters only briefly, as all eyes fall to her; she's always felt a little out of the loop amongst her colleagues, all so loud and boisterous, but since her reinstatement they seem to think she's one of the gang. Tina's yet to work out whether she loves or hates that.

"Evenin', Goldstein!" Howard calls over to her, leaping down to the ground.

"Hey, Grimsditch," Her new status as someone worth noticing is really taking some getting used to. It's a bit weird, but quite exciting too; Tina smiles.

"You look nervous, kid. Sure you're ready for tonight?"

"Of course she's ready, arent'cha Tina?" Asks Miraphora Limus, who'd been a few years above Tina at Ilvermorny, and who's far better to talk to than Grimsditch. And while Tina's grateful for the defence, she thinks he may have a point. Still, it's too late to back out now, so she nods, and responds; "I was born ready." Does she sound confident? Oh, she hopes she sounds confident.

"That's the spirit!" Grimsditch cheers.

"What did you expect from the witch who captured Grindelwald? A few of his pack is nothin', hey Tina?" With a jolt of shock Tina realises the man who's addressed her is none other than Michael Carnierus, auror captain.

"Grab some coffee, you've got time. We're still waiting on a few more people, and then we can head off." Limus says, pulling a clipboard from thin air.

"Who else is coming?" Another auror asks.

"Lopez, Fischer, Jackson, Graves, and the O'Briens." Limus rolls off. Tina barely notices the way the atmosphere in the room shifts at the mention of their head auror; she's too dazzled at working with the very top aurors. Every one of those names is already carved into the history of MACUSA itself, and then there's her. Plain ol' Tina Goldstein, who was at a desk in the wand permit office a month ago.

Carnierus groans. "You couldn't put him off?"

"If you could've done any better, you should've done it yourself." Limus retorts curtly. "And frankly, if I'd written him off the mission he'd only turn up anyway, you know what he's like."

A few more of the team traipse in, and Limus pauses to take a sip from a large mug emblazoned with the MACUSA eagle before continuing. "I know the President's spoken to a few of you about Percival returning, but I wanted to remind all of you not to poke your noses in about where he's been the past two months. He's still adjusting to life after… everything… So just don't go there. Okay?"

"He shouldn't be comin' with us tonight." Carnierus mutters. "Not yet."

"Darn right, he's a security risk!"

"But if I were him I'd want revenge, wouldn't you?"

"Yeah, an eye for an eye." Grimsditch quips, to a few puzzled looks and a few furious ones.

"Grimsditch, I don't care who your family are, I will demote you to a restroom attendant." Limus snaps.

Finally, in the tense silence, Tina manages to get a word in edgeways. "What's he talking about?"

"Mister Graves is looking a little… different to how he used to." Limus says gently.

"Grindelwald took his eye." Carnierus explains, far more blunt.

Tina barely manages not to gasp; thinking of the face that's been haunting her, the pale hair, and those eyes - one dark, the other pale. "Why?"

"A madman's idea of a joke, I suppose."

"Oh, Grindelwald isn't mad." Says a voice from the doorway. Every head snaps round to look at the man, who's looking far thinner than he had been, one eye silvery, unseeing. "He's far too intelligent for that."

If the moments before has been tense, the atmosphere of the room now is all but unbearable.

"Good evening, mister Graves sir," Limus says quickly.

"Good evening, Miraphora." Says Graves curtly, heading toward the coffee trolley as though nothing has changed. Catching Tina staring - though she's far from the only one - he smiles at her. "So, who are we still waiting for?"

* * *

The ghosts of the ruined skyscrapers seem to loom out of the darkness. But there's no light to cast shadows against; nothing but the dark.

The boy's chest wracks and shakes with a suppressed sob. Everything that happened aches to think about and yet he can't stop thinking of it, wondering why he couldn't be enough.

He isn't sure how much time has passed since he was killed. Because he must have been killed, by those witchfolks casting their spells at him, tearing him apart with light just like a candle kills the shadows - no person could survive that much pain, could they?

Shadows. That's all he is now, isn't he? It's hard to tell. Perhaps he's a demon, or merely a soul damned to eternity in Hell for his sins; Ma always warned him he'd end up this way, and if only he'd prayed more, worked harder, been better, none of this would have happened.

Or perhaps he's nothing anymore but dark smoke, the dark smoke he had breathed even when he knew it was a sin. Ma always said the devil would be charming, didn't she? But she never said he would heal his wounds, and say he was special, and hold him close like that, like nobody else-

And suddenly there is light, blinding light and a figure, a silhouette bearing a wand. Just like before.

The shadows seem to rise, and pull him in.

* * *

Spells whiz past Tina's head in the dusty, smoky air.

Having knocked out and restrained an opponent, a man named Travers, she glances around. She counts her teammates in her head - everyone's all still standing. And one member of their force commands the battle, every spell a statement. It's easy to see why he's head auror… And easy to see how Grindelwald pulled that stunt off.

A few of Grindelwald's closest have been using this dilapidated former farmhouse as a base, and even whilst fighting she has to wonder whether it's their presence that's causing the aura of dark magic around, or whether that was why they chose this place. Whatever it is, Tina doesn't trust it. Her gut instinct, which has always been reliable, is telling her to investigate it.

Two, three, seven, nine teammates are doing fine against only a handful of opponents. She can afford to slip away for a moment, she tells herself. Surely it's better to be safe than sorry, right?

"I'll be back," She mutters to Grimsditch, and disapparates.

Re-materialising in a dingy corridor, Tina draws her wand in a defensive stance. She can hear the zooming and crashing of spells just a wall away, and hopes she's done the right thing, listening to make sure she can hear familiar voices still… But there's another sound punctuating the air. A quiet noise that she wouldn't have heard amongst the chaos; muffled cries, like some kind of animal in distress. (And in the name of Bridget Bishop, now is not the time to be thinking about a certain English wizard and his suitcase).

A door at the end of the hall is shaking on its hinges, as though victim to an unfelt earthquake. That, Tina supposes, is where it's coming from. But with a hand on the doorknob, she hesitates. Even someone who isn't an auror would suspect that this could be a trap. Or, it could be something that's hurting and needs her help. What else can she do but follow the sound of the noise?

There's a flight of stairs leading down into pitch black unlike any sort of darkness she's seen before. Tina takes a deep breath, ignites her wand with "Lumos.", and walks down into the unknown.

Around her, the room seems to be moving. As though the darkness itself is twisting and warping… Tina's seen something like this before. She thinks of it often, the boy she'd thought was a no-maj, who had powers unknown that were slowly killing him…

But he was the only one in America, unless-

"Credence?"

Somehow, miraculously, he could be alive. Tina could still have a chance to save him.

"Credence, it's me, it's Tina Goldstein." Her voice is shaking more than a little. "You're safe now, Credence, I won't let anyone hurt you. I won't ever hurt you."

The darkness shifts once more, her surroundings becoming a little more comprehendible. Her heart leaps out of her chest, it's him, and Tina realises she can't go back to the fight. Not now. And if she loses her job for good this time, so be it.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner," She's sorry for a lot of things. She's spent every day since the subway weighed down by the knowledge she hadn't been able to save him from the Second Salemers. Nor from Grindelwald. And nor from her own colleagues. "I'd like to take you somewhere safe, if that's alright by you."

It's as though Tina's uttered an incantation. The effect of her voice is near instantaneous, and she watches as the dark matter draws itself inward, every wisp piecing itself together to form the emaciated frame of a boy.

Credence nods.


End file.
